


our lips (can't tell each other apart)

by serendipitousDescent



Category: Naruto
Genre: Cunnilingus, Exhibitionism, F/F, Hair-pulling, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 08:36:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12207648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitousDescent/pseuds/serendipitousDescent
Summary: Ino can't quite make it all the way home.(Sakura is going to be furious that they started without her, but this is certainly worth it.)





	our lips (can't tell each other apart)

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry, not sorry? I might add on a second chapter with the actual threesome part, but if I do, it won't be for a while yet.

“I-ino-chan,” Hinata gasps. 

Ino hums and continues nudging her thigh between Hinata’s legs with an immoveable focus. Her lips move in a silent whimper that Ino swallows up. It makes her feel better about leaning down to press soft kisses against Hinata’s neck, at any rate. 

“I didn’t think you would be this responsive, Hinata,” Ino says, her voice sultry warmth. That makes easier for Hinata to remember that Ino watched her with burning eyes all night, like they weren’t just meeting up with everyone else to complain about their new students and drink. “It makes me wonder how often you do things like this.” 

Hinata’s cheeks start to burn. “I - I-” 

“Thinking about it really makes me hot, you know?” 

Hinata shakes her head, and Ino presses closer. Spreading her legs further is the only option Hinata has at this point, too consumed by everything else to think properly. Anyone walking down the street will know exactly what they’re doing.. 

Luckily, no one is anywhere in sight. 

“Well, I can’t just accept that, not when you’re so lovely like this. The rest of the world doesn’t matter, does it?” 

Hinata inhales sharply, her head falling back to hit the wall. Ino is close enough that she physically cannot move an inch, held up only by the strength of Ino’s thighs. 

Ino giggles and her leg shifts to brush against Hinata’s underwear. “But I don’t think that’s actually the case. You always care so much about what everyone else has to say. The option to back out is still there, if you want it, Hinata. Unless you enjoy this, of course.”

“No, I want-” 

Her words die in the back of her throat. 

All of Hinata’s arousal is on display like this, the worry of someone finding them only a spark behind the flame. A satisfied laugh builds in Ino’s throat. If she angles herself just right, she can see Hinata’s hands twitch with the need to hold onto something. Even to anyone else, it would be painfully obvious just how much Hinata wants.

“There we go,” Ino croons. “Keep holding back those noises for me. You don’t want someone to look out their window, do you? The shops are closed, but this street has apartments all all along it.” 

A whimper builds between them and Hinata squeezes her eyes shut, blocking off the view of unsteady street lights and Ino watching her from beneath her eyelashes. She must have forgotten about the apartments. But Hinata only takes her word for it, her eyes staying firmly shut. 

Ino laughs. “It’s almost like you’ve done this before. I have to admit, I like the thought of you spread out against a wall, maybe a park bench. Not as much as you in bed, late at night, as you think about me and Sakura, but it comes close.” 

Hinata says nothing, her flush growing down her neck. 

“Have you? You need to tell me about them. A man? A woman?” 

“Woman,” Hinata whispers, a touch too quickly. 

“Probably someone I know then,” she adds. 

“It was-” Hinata’s lips tremble before she takes in a deep breath and finishes, “Tenten. Tenten and I have done this before.” 

“Once? Twice? A dozen times?” 

Nothing escapes from Hinata’s mouth, not even the slightest sound. 

But this time, Ino merely laughs and slowly lowers herself to her knees. Hinata is looking back at her when she looks back up. A desperate question shines through her eyes, not daring to be spoken aloud.

The answer Ino gives is clear in itself when her fingers hook into the waistband of Hinata’s shorts and tug them down. Even Hinata’s thighs are flushed, Ino discovers then and there. Flushed and struggling against the durable material of her shorts. Ino is more than willing to trade the extra space for the way her mouth falls open in a silent whimper. 

Anyone could see them here, laid out in this side alleyway. That doesn’t stop Ino from leaning in, her hands gripping wide, creamy hips. All being discovered would take is for someone to come out of the pub. All it would take is for someone to look down the side street and see them against the wall. Maybe they would need a moment to realize, but they would realize exactly what Ino is doing. 

Ino kisses the spot where Hinata’s white, lacy underwear meet her thigh first. 

It is just a feather-light touch, but Hinata trembles beneath her all the same. Hinata is nearly dangerously responsive to the attention, given their respective professions. But it presses her to continue placing kisses along the edge of Hinata’s underwear. Each hitch of her breath as Ino slowly moves further inwards is a gift. Anywhere more comfortable than this, and Ino would kiss every inch of lacy fabric before pushing it out of the way and having her way with Hinata. 

As it is, slow and comfortable is not an option here. Ino briefly lets her disappointment through. Sakura will have her hide if she finds out Ino didn’t at least bring Hinata back to their apartment. 

Even this much is likely pushing it, but Ino just can’t resist.

She dives right in, her nose pressed against the growing dampness of Hinata’s underwear. A strangled noise, not quite whimper or moan, echoes through the otherwise silent street, music to Ino’s ears.

Then she finds a hand buried in her hair. It pulls with everything it has, the sharp pain making Ino gasp. Heat swiftly replaces the pain, but Hinata’s grip allows her no room to pull away. Hinata immediately lets go, like she just touched an open flame, rather than Ino’s hair. A moment passes between them as Ino centers herself once more, then she slowly reaches back to press Hinata’s hand to the back of her hand. 

Hinata doesn’t need any more encouragement as her grip tightens once more, blonde hair bunched between her fingers. 

Ino must be quite the sight like this. A heavy satisfaction forms in her chest as she imagines it. Each slight shift of her body makes her knees dig into the cement beneath her, but that can only add to it. Add to the wretched impression of her glazed eyes, blonde strands lying over her breasts, not quite loose with Hinata gripping it so tightly. 

All she can do now is move forwards and she does just that, pressing her lips to the wettest part of Hinata’s underwear. The fabric provides a barrier between them. It dampens the sensation, but Ino can still taste a wisp of sweetness as she opens her mouth and runs her tongue along the damp length. Her jaw twinges from the awkward angle, but this is certainly worth it. 

“A-ah!” 

Ino shifts awkwardly as the heat pools in her gut, her head turning hazy. All of that is held back though, and she sucks at the spot where Hinata’s clit must be, her eyes half open. 

Her tongue circles the spot that makes Hinata jerk. Only her hands bracing Hinata’s hips stop her from losing her place as she gradually uses more pressure against it. Ino can feel each twitch of Hinata’s nerves like this. She can feel the shocks of pleasure travelling up and down her thighs. She is the one responsible for every single moment of this.

It makes makes Ino wonder what else she can do. Hinata reacts beautifully to even the briefest bit of pleasure. She would almost certainly be a gorgeous sight spread out on her and Sakura’s bed, desperate pleasure just outside of her reach. How long could she draw it out until the pleasure became too much? Ino has always been interested in what other people’s limits are, even moreso when it comes to situations such as this. 

 

“Ino-chan.” The name falls from Hinata’s lips, much like a petal would fall from a flower. “Pl-please, I need - I need you.” 

Ino should pull away now.

Part of her agreement with Sakura is that they’re going to enjoy Hinata’s company together, if Hinata is comfortable with that. Of course, at the time of said agreement, she had been a bit preoccupied with Sakura pulling on her clothes for the day to think twice about it.

With Sakura beside her, this could be better. But Sakura isn’t so interested in the potential of being seen, in people she doesn’t know watching those more intimate parts of herself. Sakura would have demanded they go inside and continue there.

Normally, Ino is fine with that.

Normally, Ino isn’t caught up in partaking in the forbidden. Her head isn’t usually hazy with the thought that just about anyone could turn the corner. She craves the sharp pain of her hair being pulled, the knowledge that all of Hinata’s attention is focused on her. She needs to know what Hinata looks like when the last of her walls fall. She is driven by a Hinata with no hesitations, once the ever-pressing fear of what other people think of her momentarily fades away. 

In the end, her decision isn’t that difficult. 

Ino pushes Hinata’s underwear to the side, the grip in her hair tightening to the point where she can’t pull away. The only way Hinata could be more exposed is if she shrugged off her shirt. It makes her tremble in a different way than before, nerves back at the forefront of her mind. But desperation also makes Hinata shift her hips from side to side, seeking contact. 

At least her nerves aren’t making her back down completely. Ino rubs small circles into Hinata’s hips with the thumb not holding her underwear aside. Some of the tension fades when she leans in to gently kiss one of Hinata’s folds, but not quite all of it. 

“It’s alright, sweetie,” Ino murmurs. “Just relax for me.”

“Ino-chan.”

“Don’t give me that tone. It isn’t that difficult.” 

Hinata lets out a faltering breath, but lets her eyes close again. Her legs fall open a bit more naturally this time around, even still partially held in place by her shorts. Relaxed isn’t quite the word for it, not with the frustrated twist of her lips, but it’s close.

It makes Ino feel oddly satisfied that she’s managed this far. She smiles at the thought and starts again, shifting to hold Hinata’s folds open. Her entrance tenses and relaxes in a slow rhythm, just obvious enough to hold Ino’s attention for a few, long moments. Ino presses forward once more and kisses her core when it relaxes. A wavering gasp escapes from Hinata’s lips, so soft that Ino nearly misses it in her delight, but there regardless. 

The sound is nearly music to her ears. Music that she wants nothing more than to hear more of. Ino lets her tongue run along the edge of Hinata’s entrance, with that very goal in mind, and Hinata doesn’t let her down. Those almost-gasps change the more she switches from slow to fast to slow again. They get louder until Ino is certain Hinata has forgotten herself as these noises climb in note, an unseen scale of enjoyment. Then she pushes her tongue inside and a gasp becomes a strangled moan, one of the most appealing sounds Ino has ever heard. 

Wetness smears across her lips, sending a shock of pleasure from her lips down to her groin. Ino loves knowing her partner is affected by her. She loves picking up on the cues and watching someone fall apart. 

As much as she hates to say it, Hinata could be falling apart by now. Sucking on that small, hard clit would have ended this as soon as Ino pushed her underwear to the side. Instead, she ignores that knowledge and gradually moves from Hinata’s core, her tongue following the crevices between her folds. 

She wishes she had the time to see if she could bring Hinata to the edge through that alone. Sakura can, if they have the time and the energy, but normally, they don’t. 

“Wa-wait,” Hinata says, abruptly pulling her hands from Ino’s hair. “You and - and Sakura-chan are together.” 

“We are. Does that make you uncomfortable?” 

“Of course!” 

Ino leans back and smiles at Hinata, even as the disappearance of Hinata’s touch makes her ache for it to return. “Does it also make you uncomfortable to know that both of us want you? Sakura isn’t expecting me to come back alone.” 

“B-both of you?” 

“It’s been that way for a long time now.” 

Hinata slowly relaxes again, her hands dropping to rest on the top of Ino’s head. 

The pressure isn’t quite there anymore. But Ino is more than willing to take advantage of what she can get, and so she presses a soft kiss to Hinata’s pelvis. 

The soft hitch of Hinata’s breath follows. But the luxury of drawing this out has long since passed, regardless of how much Ino wants to hear those quiet noises build. Instead, her mouth seals over the small, warm bulge of Hinata’s clit. 

It pulses insistently against her tongue, as Hinata cuts off a sweet cry before it can truly begin. Taking her apart later, with Sakura by herself will be a real treat. Ino moves her tongue in slow circles, encouraged by the tremble in Hinata’s legs around her head, by the hand firmly clutching her hair. 

The secret to this is always part repetition, part variation, and another three parts enjoyment. Ino certainly has the enjoyment down in spades, the discomfort in her knees nothing compared to the heavy weight in her gut. Her fingers are the next to start. Just a back and forth motion over Hinata’s entrance, a silent reminder of what’s to come. More than Hinata can likely handle, but Ino has always been good at convincing people into doing things they already want. 

“I-ino-chan,” Hinata cries, the tremble in her voice never more distinct. 

Ino takes that as her cue to add a bit of variation. 

As if Hinata needs anything more. The back and forth motion catches her by surprise, makes her shake down to her very core, her grip of Ino’s hair tightening again as it hits her, wave after wave. Ino stays right where she is, bringing Hinata through her orgasm until the hitch of her breath at every flick of her tongue melts away. 

It’s with no small sense of satisfaction that Ino finally pushes herself up to her feet. 

Hinata slumps forwards, half of her weight shifting to Ino’s shoulder, but she bears it easily enough. Awkwardly hiking Hinata’s shorts back up is honestly more difficult. All higher thought seems to be impossible. 

“Hinata-chan,” Ino says, softly. The heat coiled in her gut has yet to ease, even slightly. “Let’s go back to my place. Sakura owes me a favour, and you’re more than welcome to watch if you feel up to it.” 

Hinata sighs into the crook of her neck. “A favour?” 

“Uh-huh. She lost our spar this week. And I’ve never once turned down a homecooked breakfast. Or riding her face.”


End file.
